


A Pot(ter) of Tricks

by RommiCat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bad Puns, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Creature Fic, Creepy Mother-Son Relationship, Dream-Eaters, Harry is a Little Shit, Hogwarts Fifth Year, I'm Bad At Tagging, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Mentors, Old Folklore, Other, Perhaps a bit out of character, Severitus, Succubi & Incubi, Tricksters, wew lad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2018-12-20 13:59:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11922369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RommiCat/pseuds/RommiCat
Summary: Harry comes into his Creature Inheritance at 15. After learning he is a bit more cunning and a lot more playful than before, Harry is to continue with his schooling, one pun at a time.





	1. A Tricky Truce

Harry watched the clock, his fifteenth birthday ticking closer and closer. His stomach was in knots, but not from anticipation. It was more like an anxious, cold feeling. Like the flu. He sat up, taking a slow breath. It was like he was going to be sick. He crawled from the bed to the floor, inching to the old floorboard that held his shrunken books.

 

Once he pulled one out, it popped back to its original size. He pretty much stared at the pages, the words smearing into blobs as his stomach constricted again. His fingers ached, his eyes hurt, his jaw felt too small, and his hair kept tickling the back of his neck and it was irritating!

 

Harry swallowed bile, taking a shaky breath and falling against the floor. His body grew into a cold sweat, and his mind was swimming. He closed his eyes, his body practically falling asleep that very moment.

 

When he awoke, it was almost too bright. He pushed back his blankets, questioning when they happened to get there.

 

“Get up!”

 

Harry scowled, rolling his neck. His hair was longer! He suddenly ran his fingers through it, the soft, downy strands feeling much too foreign.

 

He glanced at the book he pulled out, raising a brow. ‘Creature Inheritance for Intellectual Children.’ He reached out to open it, the book snapping open. Reeling his hand back, Harry leaned closer, the words looking fantastically crisp. He went to adjust his glasses, noting how they were still on the small nightstand.

 

Trickster. The pages were about Tricksters. Harry only snorted, thinking of the twins.

 

_ The best way to determine a real Trickster from a prank-loving child is to introduce them to Tarot Cards. If they seem to understand the meaning without previous study, there is a possibility your son or daughter is one of the most cunning types of creatures. _

 

Harry skipped a bit, snorting again, a tingly feeling in his chest. It was pretty funny. He couldn’t be a Trickster. He didn’t like playing pranks. Or at least, he never did. He always wanted to, deep down- no! No, he wasn’t such a Slytherin creature. He tried to turn the page, the book seemingly stuck. The pages wouldn’t turn and the book wouldn’t budge off of the floor.

 

His door was being beaten on, leaving the boy to feel sorry for the wood. “Get up!” The clicking of locks made him panic, his heart beating faster than when he played his first game of Quidditch. Vernon slammed the door open, paling and stepping back.

 

“What’s wrong with you, you freak?”

 

That’s what Harry wanted to know. He opened his mouth, his teeth brushing against his lip. Vernon’s fear faded away, his fear fueling his trademark Purple Rage, as Harry called it. He slipped his belt off in one fell swoop, Harry standing and inching back. Slapping his hands over his eyes, he awaited the blows.

 

Nothing happened.

 

He pulled his hands back, gasping in horror. He was on the roof! His bottom was frying on the black tiles, Harry launching up. No, no he wasn’t getting to his feet, he was in the air! He slowly fell back to the tiles, feeling like a cartoon.

 

Harry paused at the soft fluttering of a snitch’s wings, looking up only to have his book slam into his face.  _ If you don’t have official Tarot cards, think back to your child’s accidental magic. Did he/she change the colors of things? Did they apparate without knowing what they have done? Did they make items disappear and reappear? _

 

Oh Merlin, Harry did that!  _ Tricksters, after their inheritance, will hold fox-like features.  _ Harry flinched as the pages flipped, a mirror situated in the back cover. His hair fell past his shoulders, although not far. It ended in vibrant red hues, the inky mop looking almost a deep rust color in the sun. His pupils were like a cat’s, and his teeth were sharper, longer. Harry gave a false grin, frowning when he looked like the type of kid who sold oregano to teens and called it weed.

 

Harry glanced at his fingers, which looked longer, more slender. His nails grew in the short time he was on the roof, long, curved, and sharp. He didn’t have a tail at least.

 

Harry looked out to the horizon, the sun slowly creeping up. He wanted his-

 

His trunk hit the ceiling, bouncing away and toward the edge. Sweeping forward, he managed to grab it, laying it down carefully on the roof’s point. He opened it up, pulling out his trainers. Why didn’t his feet fry on the tiles? He glanced at his toes and let out a pained groan. They were longer and had claws, much like his hands. However, on the bottom of his feet were darkened pads. He pulled his socks on, scowling as his toe-claws ripped through the fabric, sticking out from the cloth. His trainers felt wrong on his feet.

 

The socks pulled between his big toe and the one next to it, the trainers turning into wooden sandals that just didn’t look right with jeans. Harry dug through the box, pulling out his wand. The Inheritance guide nestled into the box, the lid slamming dangerously close to his fingers. The box turned into a backpack, Harry swiping the strap before it could hit the tiles and run away like his trunk almost did. When he opened it, he felt almost proud.

 

Muggle money, wizarding money, a Gryffindor scarf, a book on… Well, it was called ‘Totally not Porn’, and he wasn’t too tempted to take a peek. The book launched out, opening to the Trickster page. So it actually wasn’t porn! Great!

 

The book slipped back into place, Harry inching to the edge of the house. His pack reared back, pulling his body like a ragdoll. The book slammed into his back, launching him from the roof. He fell slowly, gliding forward and landing on the picket fence gracefully. He would be a Pro Seeker for sure.

 

He easily balanced on the fence, his hesitant walk turning into a full blown run. He felt alive! It was like he was indestructible! He leaped off of the fence, darting down the street, a grin on his lip. It was perfect!

 

Harry didn’t slow down until he approached the shopping center, unable to feel the fear of being stared at. He walked in proudly, taming his grin into something more neutral. Their gazes practically washed past him. Harry turned into the art aisle, pausing at the wooden letter display. He arranged the letters, chuckling like a fool.

 

_ Penis.  _ It wasn’t like it was a huge prank, but if it didn’t feel good to cause a little mayhem.

 

Harry strutted from the aisle, sliding to the clothing. He ran his hand over a nice dress shirt, the ragged shirt he was wearing shimmering. It didn’t do anything, but it tingled with magic. A copy of his ragged shirt sat on a hanger, however, a price tag dangling from the short sleeve. He did the same with a pair of jeans, panic filling his bones. He trotted from the store, looking for an owl that might be flying above.

 

He glanced back to his clothes, the shirt and pants matching the ones he touched in the store. A red button up and tight, dark jeans. Harry tugged at the legs, smirking when they stopped squeezing his legs. Harry sighed, slipping into a restaurant. He was trying his best to feel guilty, he knew it was theft, but he couldn’t.

 

Harry was seated, the boy accepting his menu and the compliment the gothic waiter gave him. He peeked into his bag, pulling out the Muggle money. It looked real, and for some reason, his core was telling him it truly was.

 

Half an egg sandwich later, he looked up from his inheritance book, snickering at the look a lady gave him for the cover. He looked past her, smiling widely at a familiar pair of faces. Tonks and Remus were at the doors, waiting to be seated. Harry launched from his seat, tiptoeing along the wall. He snaked a hand around the small wall that divided the dining area with the waiting area.

 

With a hissing sound, he snapped his hand forward, pinching the man’s side. Remus launched away, a loud gasp escaping his lips. The two watched as Harry dissolved into laughter, the boy grabbing the wall as he gasped for air.

 

“Who are you?” Tonks asked sharply, her face in a frown. It was obvious she was focusing on not letting her hair change colors.

 

“It’s Harry!” He grinned, eyes wide. “Your favorite Golden Boy. Remus, you tutored me third year. Think of male deer.” He gave a wink, reaching out and pulling the two to his table. “You should have seen your face!”

 

Remus and Tonks sat slowly, their guard high. Harry huffed dramatically, shoving the book at them. They both looked at the title, both wearing odd expressions. Either they were trying not to laugh, or they wanted to scold him deaf. Harry flipped it open, glad a bookmark decided to join the party.

 

“You’re a Trickster?”

 

“No, I’m a mailman!” Harry smiled. “Yeah, I’m a trick or treat-er.”

 

Remus just stared, Tonks snickering a bit. “Well, we came here to eat, then we were supposed to pick you up.” Her tone fell flat. “So, why aren’t you in the house?”

 

“I just apparated out.” Harry waved his hand, his body feeling oddly relaxed. “Vernon was out for blood, so I poofed to the ceiling and fried my arse to make a wonderful Roasted Rebellion with Fox Sauce!”

 

Remus snickered, Tonks biting her lip. “You really are quite the little joker.”

 

“What can I say? I’m a natural.” Harry barked a laugh. Part of his mind always thought his laugh sounded like a barking fox. It made sense now. “Let’s ditch, I’m excited to go see if the Twins can out prank me. Oh, do you know where an innocent fox boy could get a pack of Tarot Cards? I’m supposed to have those.” He said the last part slowly, suggestively.

 

Remus shook his head. “I’ll find you some.”

 

“I knew there was a reason I like you so much! So helpful all the time!” Harry grabbed the man’s hands, laying his head on his outstretched arms. “Oh, I could run a mile!”

 

“Maybe we should get Harry to talk to Severus.” Remus said softly. “He would know more about this.”

 

Harry’s head snapped up. Or Snape-d up, if you wanted a pun. “Is Snape a Trickster?”

 

The book shimmied, flipping to a page on Baku, or in parenthesis, a Dream-Eater. Harry snorted. Yeah, he ate dreams. And hopes. And work ethic. There was always the calming feeling he got around the man, however. He always felt safe around the man, too. Like no one could harm him as long as the scary bat-man lurked around the corner.

 

Remus glanced around, no one noticing the book. “That’s what he is. I remember students used to go to him when he was younger, paying him to eat their dreams. It’s almost scary. He never really sleeps. I remember seeing him glide across the dungeons one night. He was looking for something.”

 

“Getting poetic, huh? Gliding, pfft.”

 

“He was. His feet didn’t touch the floor!” Remus countered. “He was actually gliding. He was paler and honestly looked around like he was ready to run away at any moment.” Remus frowned a bit. “I didn’t get much of a look. I was on Prefect duty, and I suppose I was supposed to tell him to head to bed, but I felt the need to, oh I don’t really know. I just had to watch him, I guess. When I turned the corner, he was gone.”

 

Tonks looked up. “Was his hair grey and his eyes like this pale purple?”

 

“Yes, it was… Well, it was turning a pearly grey when I saw him.”

 

“That was Snape? Oh god!” Tonks groaned into her hands. “I had a nightmare and was sitting in the Hufflepuff common room. He was wearing his normal teaching robes, but it didn’t look like him at all, no big nose or lank hair! And then he just- ugh I had a cru- oh I can’t look at him the same way!”

 

Harry and Remus shared a look. “Remus, what is your creature inheritance?”

 

“Well, while it is a bit more common, I don’t have one. Being a, well, you know, it drains away any other sort of inheritance I could have possessed. Tonks has what’s called a family inheritance, so instead of waiting, her skills show up at birth”

 

“Was one of your parents a metamorphmagus?”

 

“No, actually. Somewhere in the Black line, there was one however. Skipped a few kids, I suppose.”

 

Harry nodded, standing with the two and following them out to the street, book in his arm. He was going to see Dream-Eater Snape. He had to.

 

Apparation felt different than before, that was for sure. It didn’t feel like a pull, but more like a push. It was like his body didn’t want to. Harry landed on his bottom, his brows raising as a broom was thrust into his face.

 

“Who is that?” A gruff voice demanded. “We aren’t handing out brooms-”

 

“It’s Harry, Moody!” Tonks exclaimed. “We met him while we went for breakfast, which we didn’t even eat. He’s a Trickster!”

 

“You went for a meal during a mission, Nymphadora?”

 

“Don’t call me that!”

 

Remus helped Harry up, patting his back. “We can’t apparate there, so, brooms.”

 

“You went for breakfast when I needed saving?” Harry narrowed his eyes. “You’re lucky you smell guilty. If you didn’t, you would find mustard somewhere you wouldn’t like it.”

 

Remus blanched, his face contorting in confusion and disgust. “I don’t want to think about that.”

 

The group took to the sky, Harry glancing at Shacklebolt. He steered a bit closer, laying on the broom like Rose did in the painting scene for Titanic.

 

“Hey.” Harry drawled. “You should tell me your creature inheritance. You know I’m such a good pal, and if you’re embarrassed, I’ll keep it a nice, warm, safe secret.”

 

Kingsley laughed, using his hand to stifle it. “I’m not a creature. Not everyone has one.”

 

Harry huffed. “So, is it rare?”

 

“It is, to a degree. It’s slowly becoming more common.” The Auror explained. “But you’re a Trickster, which is quite a rare one.”

 

Harry felt a bit disappointed at the idea of standing out even more. “How rare are Dream-Eaters?”

 

Kingsley hummed a bit, taking a turn. “I would say, Incubi and Succubi are the rarest, then Dream-Eaters, Fae and Fairies, and then Tricksters. Skin-walkers are after that.”

 

“So it isn’t too bad.” Harry nodded. “Well, that makes it easier to bear. I mean, at least I’m not the rarest thing on the planet.” He turned, his legs hooked around his broom so he dangled freely. “Incubi and Succubi are the ones that eat souls, right?”

 

“They lure people in using sex, then yes, they steal their souls. Incubi and Succubi are to be licensed, and they can drink a potion that had been made a long time ago, I’m afraid I can’t remember the name. It acts like a depressant, keeping the urges and soul-eating to a near nothing. The urges will be there, but the potion, if taken often, is supposed to keep them content so they don’t need souls.”

 

“Do people still wanna, you know, dance the Sexy Succubi?”

 

Kingsley laughed a bit. “They do, but they are supposed to be able to suppress the hormones that make them alluring.”

 

Harry righted himself. “You know a lot about that.”

 

“They are considered dangerous. One has to.”

 

“Ah. That makes sense.” Harry nodded sagely. “They probably should have taught this earlier.”

 

“Normally, wizards and witches don’t receive their inheritance until they are of age, so it’s normally taught sixth year.”

 

Harry scowled. “There goes my normality.”

 

Kingsley clapped his shoulder, the group landing. Harry looked at the street, the tingle of magic in the air. Harry crossed his arms, sniffing loudly. It smelled like Weasleys.

 

The houses slowly separated, Harry looking on in awe. The muggle in the window didn’t seem to notice it, but it seemed like it should have been difficult to not see when a giant house was just unfolding from a tiny alley way. Harry wondered how hard the concealing charms were to cast, considering how effective they were.

 

Harry was ushered in, looking around in wonder. It stunk like mold and depression but it was so cool! The boy slipped forward, chuckling as Tonks tripped over an umbrella stand. Harry sniffed again, excitement filling his bones.

 

Harry darted past the adults, shoving Kingsley over and ruining Tonks' attempt to stand. He whipped a door open, leaping over the dining room table and tackling Sirius into a giant hug. The man flinched, looking down in confusion until he was the boy’s eyes. The rugged man grinned, scooping the boy and holding him close.

 

“What the hell happened to you?” Sirius held the boy’s face in his hands, looking him over.

 

“I’m a Trickster, I guess. I’m also getting really sick of saying it.” Harry grinned back, eyes glimmering. “Do you have an inheritance?”

 

“No, I was skipped, it seemed.” Sirius patted his shoulder. “You’re friends are up in one of the rooms upstairs, if you want to say hello before dinner.”

 

Harry nodded eagerly, shooting up the stairs. He paused at the landing, the sound of a woman’s voice cursing about loud noises interrupting his excitement. He crept downstairs, eyes narrowing. The others were seemingly ignoring her, Harry observed with a smirk. He came close, his mind picturing a thousand ways to shut the portrait up. Harry felt his arm twitch, flinging it forward quickly.

 

Somehow, a pie had appeared, splattering on the portrait. She stopped screaming for sure, Harry slinking back up the stairs, much more quietly this time. He could hear Molly question where a pie went, and then the laughter of the others taking note of his spectacular compromising skills.

 

Harry continued up, dropping the wooden sandals and socks on the first landing. He crawled on all fours, excitement making his skin tingle. He couldn't emphasize it enough. Everything just felt so fun! It would have made the Tournament so much more enjoyable, that was for sure.

 

Harry paused, pressing his ear to a door. There was shuffling, but no voice. Harry peeked through the keyhole, unable to see anything. Privacy charm? He shrugged to himself, continuing his journey. He pressed his ear to another door, Hermione’s voice coming from the other side. Harry knocked, slipping behind the door, concealing him when it opened.

 

Hermione looked to the stairs, her gaze narrowing. “Who’s there?”

 

Harry did his best not to laugh as the others could be heard inching closer. Harry leaped out, shoving Hermione in to Ginny. “Heeeeere's Harry!” The girls let out a screech, Harry breaking into a giggling fit, complete with tears. “Your face- your face!”

 

Hermione stood sharply, punching the boy’s chest. “Harry, what did you do to yourself?”

 

“I’m a Trickster!” Harry stated again, annoyance seeping into his voice. He looked down as he sighed, smiling as his shirt dissolved the buttons, stitching itself up to create a simple clean t-shirt, his new catchphrase written in white letters.

 

Ron gaped at him. “Bloody hell! Those are rare.”

 

“Not as much as a Dream-Eater, but we know one of those?”

 

“Who?”

 

Harry felt his lips curl. “I don’t wanna ruin the secret. I think you have to wait until he shows up.” He twisted on his feet. “I can’t wait until you do! You’ll be all surprised!” He burst into giggle again, leaning closer to Ginny. “Hey, you have flecks of yellow in your eyes!”

 

The girl looked away, her cheeks tinting pink. “I guess your vision is enhanced.”

 

“Yeah, and I fall slowly.” He ignored the questioning looks, skipping to the landing. “Come on, I need lunch. I should have ordered a bigger breakfast…”

 

Harry leaped down, pausing at the warded door. He wiggled the knob, scowling when nothing happened. He continued down, spinning as he landed. He jumped into his seat, scooting forward without uncrossing his legs. He looked around the room, bouncing in his seat.

 

Severus came from the short hall with the stairs, doing a double take as he observed the boy. Harry pulled out the chair next to him, patting it invitingly. Severus leaned against the door frame, the light catching his eyes, the black orbs looking like they had a purple tint.

 

Both creatures jolted a bit when a wrinkled hand touched Severus’ shoulder, Dumbledore ushering Severus to the seat next to Harry. Harry watched as Tonks shifted a few seats away from the professor, her gaze anywhere but on him.

 

Harry leaned forward, wiggling his brows. Severus’ lips turned into a thin line, casting an obvious silencing charm around the two. The Order members watched as Harry began to speak, his lips looking firmly closed. Both of them just looked like they were just having a stare-down.

 

“Yes, Potter?”

 

“You’re a creature. A Dream-Eater.” Harry watched Severus flinch, the man scowling.

 

“What of it?”

 

“It’s cool.” Harry hummed, resting his head on his hand. “So, do you eat bad dreams or all dreams?”

 

Severus seemed to think of his options. “I only consume bad dreams. I can consume other dreams as well. And feelings.”

 

Harry looked at him in awe. “I’m gonna have to lock you up and keep you close.”

 

Severus reared back, looking worried. Not slightly worried, actually worried. Harry chuckled, patting the man’s arm.

 

“Look, I won’t actually do it. Truce? I need someone who I can relate to.”

 

“I’m not a Trickster.”

 

“But you are a creature. Close enough. Pretty please with sprinkles on top?” The boy fluttered his eyelashes. “I already know what you are. I won’t tell.”

 

Severus huffed. “If you have a nightmare, you have to call for me. If you are too far away, I can’t help.”

 

“What’s the call?”

 

The man’s cheeks went from sickly pale to a pink sickly pale. “Baku-san, come eat my dream. You must say that three times. It doesn’t have to be loud. No, I didn’t get to choose the phrase, and no, I cannot change it.”

 

“Why are you ashamed of it?” Harry grinned. “Teaching persona?”

 

Severus scowled. “It’s… It’s part of the inheritance. Like how you haven’t called me a greasy git yet. When your inheritance is at it’s peak point, it affects your judgement. Your personality.”

 

Harry’s grin grew wider. “That makes sense. See? This will be great! And, I can smell you!”

 

Severus looked disgusted, inching back in his chair. “You-? Nevermind...” He flicked his wand, the wards falling as if he didn’t want the question answered. He just wanted it to be over. Too bad!

 

“You smell good.” Harry commented simply, lying his head on the table. “I don’t very guilty as of late, so you better get ready!”

 

The man looked to Albus, the old man’s eyes twinkling in the light. Severus felt a tinge of anger, the want to remove the man’s joy strong. Harry was at least subdued around him, no long bouncing in his seat like a sugared toddler.

 

It was a start.


	2. One Worded Phrases

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry returns to Hogwarts School of Which Craft and Wizz-Art-Tree? It isn't much of a school with the Pink Toad hopping in everyone's personal life, now is it?

Harry and Sirius were sitting in the library, watching Severus pick through books. It was just simple flickering gazes when he put a book down too hard. It wasn’t as if his footsteps could be heard, so any indication that he was truly there had to be observed. Sirius’ head lolled as he drank his firewhiskey, occasionally flipping around the newspaper in his lap. It was a celebratory drink that didn't come with a real celebration.  


 

Severus suddenly shivered, dropping his books. His head whipped around, thistle colored eyes wide and searching. Harry watched as he briskly paced from the room, slipping up the stairs before the library doors creaked to a close. Harry stood, following as quietly as he could. Severus’ hair seemed to grow and fade as he walked, going from his shoulders to his bottom, his toes lifelessly sliding across the wooden floor. The grey strands reminded him of the moon, the locks fluffing out. It was like looking at a holy image from behind.

 

Severus slipped through the door, Harry having to open it very slowly, glad it wasn’t squeaky like other doors. He watched as Severus slid up to Remus, the werewolf doubled over and panting. Severus wrapped his arms around the man, pulling him close. He whispered soft words, petting his hair and rocking him slowly. He pulled a silvery wisp from the man’s temple, pushing the dream into his mouth and smiling a fraction, like it was a treat.

 

The Dream-Eater guided Remus down, pulling up the covers and tucking him in, blowing softly on the man’s face. He was asleep in an instant, Severus smoothing his hair back. The sweat on the werewolf disappeared, leaving him sleeping peacefully.

 

Harry scooted back, wishing he was back in the library. He closed his eyes, his chest compressing. When he opened them, he took a gasp of air in, sitting in the chair he was in earlier. Sirius was asleep, sniffing and letting out a drool filled snort. Harry chuckled, leaning closer. He pushed the man’s head to the side, allowing him to salivate without choking.

 

Harry didn’t know Severus was behind him until a soft breath tickled his neck. The boy turned slowly, eyebrows raising in surprise. He really didn’t look like himself. He looked, well, just not real. He was human, but he didn’t hold the flaws of a normal human. No pores were visible, his eyelashes were too long, his nose was big but it didn’t look broken. His mouth however, didn’t look like it could move. His lips were full, yes, but they were colorless. They creased in, but they didn’t open. How did he eat the dream?

 

Harry glanced to Sirius, leaning back from Severus, who only inched closer. “How uh, you do consume dreams if your mouth doesn’t open?”

 

Severus smiled a bit, his voice seemingly filling the air around them. “ _ I can open my mouth. Sometimes, I accidentally eat what I don’t wish to. I speak without it. _ ” His voice wasn't attached to him. The soft whispers were just a rumbling voice that came from no one. Like Satan, probably.

 

“Why does it look closed?”

 

“ _ It is. It keeps your good dreams safe. It keeps your joy safe. _ ”

 

Harry nodded, reaching out. Severus’ skin wasn’t very solid, Harry’s hand sliding through him like he was made of warm oil. The man shivered, pulling away. Both flinched when Sirius snorted again, shifting. Severus instantly darted through a wall, a few of the books wriggling from the force against their respected shelves. The man wiped his face, tiredly grinning at Harry.

 

“Sorry, Buck. Where did Snivellus go?” He glanced around the room. “Ran off to his Lord, didn’t he?”

 

Harry shook his head. “You shouldn’t call him that and you know it.” He stood. “You woke up so he ran.”

 

“I get that he ran. Where did he go?” His words slurred.  


 

“Well, I don’t know.” Harry huffed, feeling jittery. “Do you know what he is?”

 

“Slimy?”

 

“No.”

 

“Greasy?”

 

“No!”

 

“I don’t think I know what you want me to say. The Snake was always running around at night. I didn’t know what he was doing, but he was up to something. I think what I said fits perfectly.”

 

Harry let out a grunt, heading to the door. “I’m gonna look for him.”

 

“Hold on, Buck. I’ll go too.” Sirius stood, cracking his back. Harry walked softly, wondering if Sirius’ heavy steps would alert the hiding phantom. His collar was yanked on, Sirius pointing at a curtained window. Harry raised a brow, pulling it back gently.

 

Severus was outside in the alleyway behind the house, looking up the sky.

 

“It’s a dream-eater. They say-”

 

“I know what they say!” Harry hissed. ”We need to bring him inside.”

 

“He can’t see the house.”

 

“Yes he can.” Harry sniffed, pausing. Sirius didn’t know. “He passes through wards all the time. Can wards really stop a dream-eater? Wards are meant to protect, and so are they.”

 

Sirius shrugged. “It might be dangerous.”

 

Harry giggled. “No, I don’t think so.” He opened the window, proud that it didn’t make any sounds. It was his doing. A window that old would practically scream when opened.

 

He slipped from the sill, dropping silently onto the cement. Sirius clambered over, his feet landing with a soft thud.

 

“Hey, Severus, don’t panic.” Harry murmured softly, approaching slowly. The man tensed, his hair flipping up like a scared cat’s. He whipped around, watching Sirius closely.

 

“Buck, Buck back away…” Sirius drew his wand, keeping it lowered as he stepped closer.

 

“It’s alright!” Harry snapped, reaching a hand out. “Come on, Professor. Let’s go inside. No one else is calling you.”

 

“Harry, he is out of the wards. Come here!” Sirius took another step forward, raising his wand.

 

Harry shot the man a glare, reaching past the ward’s surface. It rippled as he went through it, his hand out in an offering way. “You can come back. You don’t have to be scared.”

 

Severus reached forward, mouth opening slowly. It reached much too far back, his teeth slightly visible through his parted lips.

 

A spell whizzed past Harry, Severus dodging quickly. The man’s eyes narrowed, his teeth bared as he let out a loud, echoing hiss. His body turned to a thick fog, reforming into a beast Harry had never seen before. It had the legs of a tiger, with a thick strong body that was a mixture of that and an elephant. The beast’s trunk coiled, long ears flapping as it slunk away.

 

Sirius took another step forward, Harry doing the same, a look of pleading on his face. The Baku hissed, it’s tail lashing before it took of in a quick sprint, leaving the two at the edge of the wards.

 

Harry whipped around, his cheeks turning red. “Why did you do that? We lost Snape! We lost my creature mentor!”

 

Sirius showed nothing but confusion. “What do you mean Snape? He isn’t a Dream-Eater!”

 

“Yes he is!” Harry marched to the window, hoisting himself up and over. “How are we going to find him? We can’t call for him. He’s gonna want a dream and he might eat our hopes if we falsely call.”

 

“I’m sorry, Buck. I just… I was worried that was what he was going to do.” Sirius explained, rubbing his head.

 

“I know you were... “ Harry sighed, taking a seat on the couch, now free of dead puffskeins. “We have to wait until one of us has a nightmare. Hopefully he will come back.”

 

“I didn’t think he would run. He would flee, but normally the bastard puts up a fight.”

 

“The Baku is timid. It hides.” Harry muttered. “The fighting was probably a overcompensation.”

 

“Sounds like a solid idea.” Sirius muttered into his hand. “I am sorry, Buck. We’ll get him back.”

 

Harry flopped onto the couch, nodding. “If he doesn’t, I’m sure he will be around during the school year.”

 

He wasn’t, though. Harry was already a month in, and too many issues arose. First, Snape never showed up, and Dumbledore came up with a lie about how he was ill. Secondly, Draco Malfoy was smelling way too good and was always skirting away from everybody, and Harry really wanted to know if he wore boxers or briefs. Then there was detention. Some ministry lady named Umbridge had called him an attention seeking brat. He almost believed he was. Something about wanting the Twins to continue calling him the Long-Lost-Weasley-Triplet was all too appealing.

 

“Mr. Potter, what I want is simple.” She sent down a quill, but no inkwell. “I want you to write, ‘I must not tell lies’, on that piece of parchment.”

 

“How many times?”

 

“Just one.”

 

Harry felt the urge. “So why say I was doing _lines_ , when I was only going to do _one_? Why not make it time consuming, seeing as you want to ruin my Quidditch Practice. Let’s make a big sculpture that walks. The ‘W’ can be ears, and the ‘S’ could be a tail. Oh! The ‘T’ in 'must' and every ‘L’ could be little legs. It could be an enchanted cat!” He wadded up the paper, tossing it up and watching at it dropped, meowing and vomiting ink onto the table.

 

Harry raised a brow as the ink vanished and the cat lit on fire, trying not to grimace as it yowled in agony. “You must not like cats as much as I thought you did.”

 

“Mr. Potter.” She ground out viciously. “Your lines.”

 

“Still singular. Like yourself!” Harry let out a barking laugh, slapping his hand on the table. “I’m going, I’m going.”

 

He wrote it quickly, making the ‘s’ stretch across the paper with a flourish. His hand convulsed, his arm burning. Blood quickly soaked through the white sleeve of his uniform, Harry yanking back his sleeve with a pained gasp. Slowly, the ‘s’ climbed up his arm, stopping right at his elbow.

 

“What did you do- ow!”

 

“We do not tell lies. Keep writing.” Umbridge’s voice was sharp and falsely cheery. “You know you deserve this. Keep writing.”

 

Harry clenched his hand, writing another line. It was like a nightmare! Harry’s hand shook, as he held the quill.

 

“Baku-san, come eat my dream. Baku-san come eat my dream.”

 

A silencing charm was cast, Harry scowling. He wrote the line on the parchment, Umbridge shaking her head and cancelling the spell.

 

Umbridge wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Monsters like that can’t enter… school… wards…” Her voice faded away as growling rumbled behind her.

 

The Baku hissed, it’s eyes narrowing. Did it always look so pointy?

 

Umbridge let out a shriek, backing away in horror. The beast crept forward, hissing and swiping. She slammed her door shut as she exited her office, shouting for Aurors.

 

Harry turned to the beast, its large eyes looking sorrowful. “ _ Stuck. _ ”

 

“You can’t transform back? Why?”

 

_ “Never. _ ” He paced in a circle, sitting quietly. “ _ Beast. _ ”

 

“So, you have never transformed, so you don’t know how to fix it.” Harry groaned. “Well, what are we going to do?”

 

“ _ Cat. _ ”

 

Harry thought. “McGonagall.”

 

“ _ Cat. _ ” Severus nodded, ears flopping as he did so. It was kind of cute. “ _ Love plant. _ ”

 

“I love salad too, but that isn’t relevant.”

 

It looked irritated, and the prospect of the Baku being Snape was as clear as day. “ _ Love! Plant! _ ” He stood, his trunk wrapping around Harry’s wrist.  _ “Love plant. Seal. _ ”

 

“Oh, you mean medicine! Potions and the- oh!” Harry nodded, standing and swaying. He flopped into his chair, taking a breath. “I’m kinda light headed. I need a minute, okay Professor?”

 

_ “No. Baku lead. _ ” Severus crouched down, nudging Harry’s legs with his tusks. “ _ Rise. Rest. Lead. _ ”

 

Harry tossed a leg over the Potion Master, gasping when he was lifted up. Severus reached up with a long paw, yanking at the knob. Harry opened the door, grabbing onto the ring of fur around Snape’s neck.

 

“This one word thing is going to be pretty confusing.”

 

“ _ Yes. _ ”

 

Harry let his head fall onto the Professor’s, the soft pants of the beast calming him. “Why do you make me so calm?”

 

“ _ Sleep dust. _ ”

 

“Yeah, yeah that makes sense.” Harry murmured, his eyes feeling heavy. Severus shimmied his hips, jolting Harry so he could reach up to open the door. The scent of clean linen filled his nose, a smile of his face. He liked Madam Pomfrey. She was kind of cool, fixing bones and such so easily.

 

“Ah, Severus, there you are! What happened to Mr. Potter?” The medi-witch hoisted up the skirt of her dress as she briskly walked forward, an angry gasp escaping her. “When did- Take him to the bed, Severus.”

 

Severus’ claws clicked at he walked, Poppy helping lift Harry onto the cot. Severus sniffed loudly, his claw clicking fading away.

 

“Where is he goin’ to?”

 

“He is probably looking for a meal. It is almost curfew, and the Practice drained several students.” Poppy sighed. “They probably retired early.”

 

The clicking returned. “Harry!”

 

The boy leaned forward, looking over Poppy just as she shoved a blood-replenishing potion in his face. He swallowed with a scowl, smiling at Hermione and Ron.

 

“Hey guys. Thanks, Madam Pomfrey.”

 

“Don’t thank me until you aren’t anemic.” She gave the two a look. “30 minutes. Severus, watch the clock.”

 

“ _ Yes. _ ” Severus leaped on the bed, laying at the boy’s feet. “ _ Cloud speak. _ ”

 

“What?” Ron asked, squinting his eyes. “What is that? And why is it named after Snape?”

 

Harry shook his head, taking the glass of water that appeared on the bedside table. “It is Snape. He saved me.”

 

“So what does ‘cloud speak’ mean?” Hermione asked, looking around the room.

 

“Probably quiet. You kind of yelled when you came in.” Harry watched the Professor nod. “Yep. I’m a Pro Baku Translator, don’t you know?”

 

“Why doesn’t Snape change back?” Ron ignored Hermione’s 'professor' correction, looking to the beast.

 

“He’s stuck.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

“He told me.” Harry deadpanned. “He can speak.”

 

“ _ Seed Eater. _ ” Severus stood, looking to the door. Draco Malfoy burst in, chest heaving.

 

“Madam- I need the potion!” He cried out, his eyes a vibrant blue.

 

The medi-witch came out with a slim vial of white liquid, Draco downing it. She conjured a glass, ushering him to the bed next to Harry. She filled it with water, shaking her head.

 

“You were making progress!”

 

“I know! It keeps happen-” He glanced over and locked onto Harry, his head snapping away and his neck turning red. “It was a simple mistake.”

 

“That potion!” Hermione gasped suddenly. “The students chasing you, the eye color changes- You’re an Incubus!”

 

Severus looked over, leaping to the bed with Draco. The boy scooted away, flinching when the Professor butted his head against the boy’s.

 

“ _ Dragon. Father Brother. _ ”

 

“Uncle Severus?” The boy’s hands latched into the Baku’s fur, shivering a bit. “I came into my inheritance early. I’m never left alone! I don’t know what to do- I’m gonna be accused of assault or something!”

 

Severus cooed, a purr rising in his chest. “ _ No. Safe. Nest. Baku watch. _ ” The beast sat, allowing the boy to play with the silky fur.

 

“Thanks…” Draco raised his head, eyes narrowing. “Yes, I am an Incubus, Granger. Took you long enough.”

 

The boy next to her scowled. “You probably release pheromones on purpose, Malfoy. You like the attention until it gets to be too much. Then you play the pity game.”

 

“Shut it Weasel!” The boy’s eyes snapped red. His voice grew sultry, his pupils widening and his irises turning a vibrant pink. “You will go to your bed, and to shall read until I come for you.”

 

Ron stood, shuffling from the room. Draco smirked a bit, burying his face into Severus’ soft fur.

 

“What did you do?” Harry asked, leaning over to watch the doors shut.  


 

“The only thing this curse is good for.” He said nonchalantly, waving a hand. “It’s just a simple compulsion. It only lasts for an hour, so your precious Weasel will be over it soon enough.” His tone turned sour. “Now quit talking to me. I have a headache.”

 

Severus nudged Draco, the boy taking the hint and laying down. A silvery mist escaped his mouth, Draco slumping over and sleeping. The potions master did his best to pull the covers up, inching it carefully as he shuffled his paws around so he didn't stand on it. Once he was satisfied, he stretched over to Harry’s bed, peeking a glance at the sleeping Slytherin.

 

“That’s such a great ability.” Harry sighed in envy. “Think of all the pranks you could pull with an ability like that.”

 

“ _ No. _ ”

 

“But-”

 

“ _ No. No trick. Learn. Eh-du-ca-th-on. Mind point. _ ”

 

“You did not just tell me to focus on my education.”

 

“ _ Part sun dial. Nest hour high. _ ”

 

“Guess that means you have to go, Mione.” Harry gave her a small smile. “At least Severus is back. He can’t teach, but less nightmares, amiright?”

 

“I suppose.” She sent Severus a calculating glare, giving Harry a side hug. “I’ll see you later.”

 

Once the doors were shut, Poppy bustled out of her office, a three trays hovering behind her. “Severus, you weren’t supposed to put Mr. Malfoy to sleep!”

 

“ _ Mind pain. _ ”

 

She shook her head, carding her fingers through his fur. “You did your best. Wake up Mr. Malfoy so he can eat his supper. Mr. Potter, I expect all of this gone. Severus, I got you a lamb stew. Hopefully it will ease whatever kept you away for a month. I’ll let Albus know if we can get you unstuck again.”

 

“Again? He said he has only done it once!”

 

Poppy sent the beast a glare. “You and your pride, Severus! Honestly! Severus did this once when he was a second year. It took an awful lot of spells and potions, but we at least know what to do this time around. Now then, eat.”

 

She returned to her office, Severus looming over Draco. He sheepishly shivered, flicking his tail at the dark haired boy. He blew at Draco’s eyelids, the boy groaning and digging his face into his pillow.

 

“5 mur’min-ets…”

 

Severus stuck out his tongue, Harry watching in glee as he shoved it in the boy’s ear. Draco launched up with a yelp, his hand slapping to the side of his head.

 

“Very funny, Severus- oh dinner! Wonderful!” The boy took his tray, occasionally holding a napkin out to Severus so the Baku could wipe off his face. Harry kept chuckling, Draco doing his best not to laugh at the boy who couldn’t stop acting like a little girl with a crush.

 

“ _ Plant water. Part five and one. Learn. See reed flat-scroll.” _

 

“I’m not doing potions homework!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's chapter 2! It's uh, yeah. Severus will be fixed, so no you don't have to worry about him staying a creature forever.


	3. Trains, Cars, and Tarot Cards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to steer toward some queers and make a truce that isn't loose.

Now that Harry knew Draco was an incubus, he had refused to look the boy in the eye. Not that he had much of a chance; Draco normally looked at the wall whenever he spoke to someone. Crabbe and Goyle flanked him everywhere as well. The two weren’t affected, that was obvious enough, but they kept close. They escorted him to the bathroom, for Merlin's sake! Dropped their quills and would just up and leave. They let the points drop, not caring as long as the boy was safe.

 

Loyalty like that made him wonder why they weren’t Hufflepuff. Maybe they did it for money? No, too much was happening for that kind of dedication.

 

Harry was forcefully sat next to the Semen Demon in DADA, his head reeling with heat and lust that he really didn't want to feel. What did his lips feel like? They weren't chapped, so not rough. They didn't look soft like a girl's either, though. Draco kept looking over, a blush on his neck. Gingerly, the boy raised his hand, Umbridge pausing her so-called lesson. Reading a book, and by reading Harry meant looking at words and charming them to dance, was not a class.  


 

“Could I take my potion, Miss?” Draco had his best ass-kissing voice in use.  


 

“Why didn’t you take it before class?” Ah, the restroom argument.  


 

“I didn’t need it then.” A classic.  


 

“It can wait, then.” Shot down!  


 

“No it can’t!” Draco hissed out, obviously not willing to continue in his discomfort. “Ah, whatever!” He popped open the vial, downing it with a sigh. He shook his head and scrunched up his nose, clearing his face before jabbing Harry in the jaw. “Are you back to Earth, Potter?”

 

“Wha- huh? Oh, yeah! Uh, John Smith!” Harry pointed at the board, earning a round of giggles. “A famous locksmith.” His voice grew more song-ish. “Hard as a rock smith, and strong like an ox, Smith-”

 

“Quiet!”

 

Draco and Harry watched as she stomped up to their table, beady eyes blazing. “El sapo feooooo.” Draco muttered to himself, drawing out the ‘o’.

 

“And, what,” She whispered sharply, “does that mean, Mr. Malfoy?”

 

“Bell will ring in, 3, 2, 1- Run, Malfoy, run!” Harry screeched, the students launching from their desks and out into the hall. Papers were left behind and quills lay scattered on the floor.

 

The doors slammed shut, several students gasping as their heels were knocked into painfully. The remaining students turned, watching as sheets of papers launched from her desk, setting neatly as the abandoned desks.

 

“That’s cool and all, and I’ll let you finish, but my Beast Buddy needs feeding.” Harry said loudly, puffing out his chest. “You wouldn’t want him to come looking for us, would you?”

 

“I... am not scared... of your beast!”

 

“You sure? I think you are putting up a Bravdo~” Harry ended it with a flourish, raising a hand up and placing another on his waist. “You yodeled for Aurors last time.”

 

“Potter, I swear-”

 

“Teachers aren’t supposed to swear.” Draco snapped. “What kind of Ministry example are you? Swearing in front of children!” He kept cutting her off. “And really, handing out detentions left and right- You don’t want us to trust the Ministry, do you? I’ll write to my father, you know. He won’t have kind words to your superiors. Let us see, student harm, seeing as I couldn’t take my potion, you also hurt several students when you slammed the doors, invoking fear of violence, so abuse, the slamming of the door is such a rude thing to do, were you raised in a barn?”

 

Harry nodded sagely. “Don’t forget falsely calling for Aurors. Someone could have died while the ones here looked for a false problem.”

 

“Very true.” Draco nodded, ticking off his fingers. “You don’t let us practice spells, which is a violation of Hogwarts rule, ah, and overall, wearing the same pink outfit makes us all think you don’t bathe. Which is gross. And also against the rules.”

 

“What about that criminal who teaches potions-”

 

“Professor Jackson is a lovely man!” Harry gasped, tossing a hand over his heart. “He gave us candy for completing the potion correctly!”

 

“Snape-”

 

“If you look closely, his robes are in fact of different colors.” He raised his nose in the air. “The deep, forest green ones bring out his figure! However, the rich, dark royal purple most definitely brings out his eyes! They themselves look purple. And the eclipse midnight blue ones, artistry! Strike a commanding pose with those on and you will have people willing to kiss your boots!”

 

“Are you always this gay?” Harry whispered.

 

“Yes, actually.” Draco whispered as he snaked a hand to the boy’s bottom, giving it a rough pat. “Watch who you play games with, Potter.” His face was grim as he pulled his hand back. Harry almost wished his didn’t. Damn demon boy.

 

Umbridge finally looked up from her hands, opening the door with a flick of her wand. “Go. Get… Get out!”

 

Draco puffed out his chest, Crabbe and Goyle attaching to his hips as they made their way their next whatever.

 

“Are you alright, Harry?” Ron asked while Hermione looked him over.

 

“Are gays okay in the Wizarding World?”

 

“What?”

 

“Yes or no, Ron.”

 

The boy grew flustered. “Well, most Purebloods say yes, but most muggle raised ones say no, so it depends on background. Even then, Purebloods are only gay until they produce an heir, and they they are straight with a gay tag along.”

 

Hermione stared at the boy in horror. “They cheat on their spouses?” Asking _all_ the right questions.

 

“They marry for status, not love.” Ron grumbled. “Why did you ask that, Harry?”

 

“Just, uh, wondering.” Harry nodded. “Yeah. Wondering.”

 

“Did uh, Malfoy do something? He looked at you funny...” Hermione asked softly. “Do we need to see Madam Pomfrey-”

 

“No no.” Harry lied. “He just could spot the 16 shades of black Snape wears. I was suspecting he was. Of course I asked, and he just goes ‘well yeah’. It made me wonder…”

 

“Malfoy’s gay?” Ron asked, humming to himself. “That explains the thing with Zabini.”

 

“Give me the details!” Harry leaped up, leaning forward like a sideways ‘L’. “I need to know.”

 

Ron and Hermione shared a look. “He isn’t with Zabini.”

 

Harry deflated. “Damn. They would look cute together, I’d think. Both have a broom up their arse, so it isn’t like it wouldn’t work.”

 

Ron burst into laughter, Harry dodging Hermione’s slap to the arm.

 

“Race to you the tower.” Harry jumped up and closed his eyes, opening them and glancing at the fireplace. He would never get over it. It wasn’t apparation- more like teleportation. How else could he make it through the wards?

 

Severus slipped up through the floor, looking around with a lashing tail. He crawled onto the couch, listening to the springs’ protests. Once he was comfortable, he set his head on the boy’s lap, letting out a soft snort.

 

“ _ Mischief. Bad. _ ”

 

“It was funny. Did you know Malfoy was gay?”

 

Severus let out another snort. “ _ Yes. Clear. _ ”

 

“Am I the only one who missed it?”

 

“ _ Yes. _ ”

 

Harry groaned, tossing his head back. “You know what I think? I’m thinking he has a crush on Harry 2, Trickster Boogaloo.”

 

“ _ Clear. _ ”

 

“You knew? And you didn’t tell me? What if I liked him back?”

 

The beast lurched forward, Harry scooting away. It took him a moment to realize the beast wasn’t vomiting, but letting out a wheezy laugh. Harry broke out as well when the Baku snorted, burying its face between the back of the couch and the cushions. The portrait hole swung open, Severus taking laughter with him as he darted through a wall. Harry hummed a bit, staring at the bricks he went through. No words of wisdom, today, it seemed.

 

Ron and Hermione looked at the spot on the wall, not saying anything until they took their seats.

 

“I’ll hazard a guess that Professor Snape was here.”

 

“Yeah. Laughs like a vomiting dog. It was wonderful, I wish you could have seen it.” Harry pulled his eyes back and stretched out his mouth, sticking his tongue out. “Like this!” He wheezed, Ron joining Harry in his laughter.

 

Hermione shook her head, a smile on her lips. The trio paused their mocking, glancing at one of the long windows in the common room. An owl sat on the sill, a letter on it’s leg. The bird yanked it from the holster, dropping it on the floor lazily. It didn’t bother for a treat, flying off without a single hoot.

 

Harry summoned the shaking letter, opening it and raising a brow. “It’s from Percy.”

 

“What does the git want?” Ron spat, betrayal on his face. It was fair.

 

Harry coughed into his hand, speaking in the most stuck-up voice he could manage.  _ “Dear Ron, I have heard from Minister Fudge-Pop and the Toad that you have become a prefect. Very good, you may be useful after all! This means you don’t get to have a life like Fred and George. It would be advised you stuff your wand in your arse for maximum prude-ness.”   _ Harry paused his joke, scowling. “... I-I gather you are still seeing Harry Potter. If you don’t wish to lose your badge, I would recommend you leave his company. With the way things are going, Potter won’t be able to hide under Dumbledore’s favoritism anymore. If you look at the Prophet tomorrow, you might be able to see how the tides are flowing. Besides, that inheritance is quite bothersome, and is almost like asking for expulsion. Your Brother, Percy.”

 

“That git! I’m not gonna ditch you Harry.” Ron tore up the letter, tossing it in the fire. “Me being a prefect isn’t a big deal anyway. I don’t care that much.”

 

Harry gave the sad smile. “But, maybe Percy is right.  I don’t want to get you expelled.”

 

“I don’t need you to that, honestly.” Ron chuckled. “I just have to curse a few Ravenclaws. That would do it, I’m sure. I need to eat, honestly. I’m gonna head to the loo and then the Great Hall. see you two then?”

 

“Sure.” Harry patted the boy’s back. “Thanks, Ron.”

 

“It’s what friends do, isn’t it?”

 

Hermione smiled as the boy walked off, sighing through her nose. “I need to do some research on how bad werewolves are. Apparently, that’s the whole lesson plan for the week.”

 

“I’m offended on Remus’ behalf.” Harry muttered. “I’m gonna see if Severus is lurking around in the bell tower. He seems to like it there.”

 

“Bell tower?”

 

“Yeah. The one with the clock. You know, if you joined Ron and I when we went out exploring, you would know where everything is.” Harry chuckled, closing his eyes and hearing the chime of the clock, opened them again. There was Snape, staring off into the distance. Draco sat next to him, leaning against the wall.

 

“I don’t know how to avoid it.”

 

“ _ Act. Same side. Hide in sun. _ ”

 

“Perhaps.” Draco deflated. “But what if he figures it out?”

 

“ _ Snake swim in reed. Duck does not chase snake in reed. Scared of reed. More snake. Snake bite, sharp, blood. Duck mind tells story, past mistake. Duck does not chase snake, unless snake allows. _ ”

 

“You sound like a wise old man.”

 

Draco laughed a bit when a large paw was swung against his shoulder, no wounds appearing. Harry cleared his throat, taking a seat on the other side of Severus.

 

“Am I interrupting?”

 

Draco let out a sigh. “No. How long have you been here?”

 

“Just ported in. Something about an old man?” Harry didn’t show that he saw the relief in the grey eyes. “You aren’t charming sweet old men for candies, are you?”

 

“No, Uncle Severus is just being himself.” Draco smirked when the beast yawned, his teeth clacking as his jaw shut.

 

“ _ Mind of Nest. _ ” It was as if Harry should have guessed. Nothing was done because he wanted to. Only because he had to.

 

“Right, of course. How dare we assume you care.” Draco muttered, earning a sharp nudge. “Mother won’t like it if you shove me out of the tower, you know.”

 

“ _ Nest Birth-er won’t know. Ran into sunset. Frolic like deer. _ ”

 

“You bastard!” Draco’s gasp was met with another wheezy laugh, the boy covering his mouth. “Now I see why you aren’t so liked.”

 

Harry shook his head, watching an owl soar close. A small package was dropped on Severus’ head, earning a hiss and a tail lash. Harry picked it up, opening the back a grinning wildly.

 

“My tarot cards!”

 

Draco peeked around the Professor, looking unimpressed. “Are you purposely this stupid?”

 

“ _ Dragon, Deer power. Must respect. _ ” Severus explained softly.

 

“Oh fine. Explain your power for the audience.” He gestured to the empty room. Harry held out his hand, snickering at the title of his inheritance book once it flew into his palm.  


 

_ Why Prostitutes Should be Government Leaders.  _ Draco stared at the title, leaning back and biting his lip.

 

“That is _not_ the right book.”

 

“My book likes to express itself. You should have seen  _ Maths for the Rest of Us.  _ Everyone looked like they wanted to know if they had to question me or themselves.” Harry sniffed at the memory. “I recommend doing this. Best laugh you will ever get.”

 

Draco shook his head. “The girls would kill me.”

 

“All the better. When girls get mad, they always scoff and tighten up.”

 

“They do, don’t they?” Draco snickered.

 

“ _ Flat reed scroll. _ ”

 

“Yeah yeah, hold on.” Harry opened to the bookmarked page. “ _ The best way to determine a real Trickster from a prank-loving child is to introduce them to Tarot Cards. If they seem to understand the meaning without previous study, there is a possibility your son or daughter is one of the most cunning types of creatures. Tarot Cards are used for cursing, charming, and hexing. Using what a Tricker can learn from the cards, they can determine what to do with the target. As long as the Trickster is in the same room as the target, the cards should work, with or without the targets participation. _ ”

 

Draco sniffed. “How rude.”

 

“And compulsion isn’t?”

 

“I haven’t hurt anyone. I just send them away.”

 

“ _ Do. _ ”

 

“Sure thing, Master Yoda.” Harry pulled out the deck, reveling on how natural it felt. He shuffled quickly, rolling some of the cards between his fingers. “Ready, Malfoy?”

 

“Why me?”

 

“Why not?” Harry fanned the deck out, Draco plucking three from the pile. He set them down, Harry flipping them over. Positioned upside down was The Tower, and the right side up ones were The World and The Magician. Harry felt something whisper in his mind.

 

“Forecast is looking rough.”

 

Draco blanched. “How so?”

 

“Well, there is gonna be a crisis, but the good news is, you’re gonna come out better and in peace with yourself.”

 

The blonde sniffed. “Well, I guess that’s good.”

 

“Severus, you wanna know?”

 

“ _ No. Baku know. _ ”

 

“Do you really?” Harry raised a brow. “What happens then?” He received a toothy smirk, Severus slinking through the floor to avoid the Tarot reading.

 

Draco stood, dusting off his pants. “I’m a lot of things, Potter, and one of those things is keen to weapon craft. I would suggest learning card throwing, sharpening charms, and perfecting a silent accio. I’ve seen you summon, the object rattles and shakes too much. Hell, a gesture-less accio would be the best bet. You and I, are considered very, very dangerous.” He eyes when from silver to a murky grey, like a brewing storm. “Don’t let that book pamper you. People want me dead, and they want you dead.”

 

“And you don’t want me dead?” Harry asked softly.

 

“We’re too similar now. So, no, I can’t say I do. My advice doesn’t need to be learned, but, you know. Your pathetic knack for cheating and unorganized battle isn’t really fair.”

 

“Why advise a practice, then?”

 

Draco smirked. “I guess you’re going to have to use that mush you call a brain, Potter. You’re tricky, but remember, I can see through your games. After all, it’s all about how you smell.”

 

The blonde boy’s smirk grew to a grin, a slight flick of the hand signaling a goodbye while he walked back to the main part of the school.

 

Harry twirled the card on his finger, not dying for a prank or game. People did want him dead. Malfoy knew which people, too. Perhaps a skill wouldn’t hurt. It looked like a nice, subtle, _cunning_ way to show that a truce didn’t seem too out of reach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, for all you Snarry fans, this isn't a relationship story between Severus and Harry. If you like Drarry, if you squint, you might catch some angsty shipping. It's going to be a mentor fic, so if you wanted ROmance and not BROmance, you picked the wrong mood lighting. In the wise words of Youtube: Sorry bout that


	4. Sweet Morrigan!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus is fixed, Harry is tossing cards, and this whole chapter is short and I'm sorry.

Harry flicked the card out, watching as it lodged itself into his bed pole. Severus ‘watched’ with his eyes closed, reminding him to continue to practice when he took too long a pause. Draco had been right, it was a useful skill. He just hoped he wouldn't have to use it.

 

Ron entered the room, flinching when the card landed with a sharp thunk. Harry huffed, summoning the card back.

 

“Hey Ron. Stop hiding, Professor. He saw you in the Hospital Wing, remember?”

 

The Baku didn't seem to care, but he did become visible. He dropped from the post, landing on the mattress and yawning. He returned to his curled up position, looking at Harry.

 

“ _ Red Weasel. Good sunset. _ ”

 

“Wha- Red Weasel?” He boy snapped.

 

“Well he can't really say Ron. I’m deer. Like the animal. Hermione has the best. Really.” Harry broke into giggles, Ron flopping onto his bed.

 

“ _ Loud Bush. _ ” Severus yawned, shaking his head. His fur poofed up and he did his best to not scowl, his ears fluttering. “ _ Deer read flat reed. Red Weasel must halt eat. Only flat reed. No sun, no moon, only flat reed. Need mouse of flat reed, give lion!”   _ He let out a sorry excuse of a scoff. “ _ No join party. Only Loud Bush learn. No sleep. No use. _ ”

 

Ron snickered. “That does sound like Mione. Wait- is that why she bothers you? Cause she does everything in class?”

 

“ _ Pupil silent. Loud Bush scares. Makes sloths. _ ” Severus hissed. “ _ Snake speak no work for Loud Bush _ .  _ Lion speak… no use. _ ”

 

Ron snorted. “So why didn’t you tell her that she needs to stop?”

 

Harry hummed. “You know, perhaps that is where the insufferable part comes in.” The fox-like boy yanked his Judgement card free, leaning on the Baku. “Perhaps you should praise her so she stops?”

 

Severus’ eyes were half-lidded. “ _ Baku can’t. _ ”

 

“Why not?”

 

The beast shook his head, letting out a dejected sigh. He let out a shuddered breath, rolling onto his side. Harry rubbed Severus’ ears, shaking his head.

 

“Well, you know what always cheers me up?”

 

“Pranks?”

 

“ _ Bird? _ ”

 

“Candy!” Harry dug into his trunk, pulling out a large sack. “I liked that preserving charm, and I figured I would save at least a third of any candy I bought for a rainy day.” Harry peeked out the window, grinning like a fool. It was raining; it had been all day, but that it was still raining make his joke so much better. “That good news is, we have an appropriate mood and reason. Let’s go share!”

 

“What about Snape?”

 

The Professor looked up at his, large purple eyes shimmering with what looked like tears. Harry swallowed the uneasy feeling in his gut.

 

“Well, we don’t have to share that much.” Harry unwrapped a muggle truffle Hermione gave him last Christmas, holding it out for the Professor. The beast flipped it up with his tongue, his jaw sapping shut around it.

 

Ron took a frog, catching it before it crawled from the box, tossing the package away. “Ah, I got Prince again!”

 

“Prince? Like the artist?”

 

“Who? No.” Ron shook his confusion away. “Eileen Prince. She was part of one of the biggest scandals of the ‘50’s. She’s infamous.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“Well, the Prince family was as pure-blood as one could get without inbreeding. Really skilled in mind arts and dark stuff. Somehow or another they were a neutral family. Didn’t take sides. Didn’t even fund. Really closed off. So, Eileen, she was a witch who ran off and got disowned. Had an affair on her fiance, got pregnant from a muggle, decided she liked him more. That’s why she was disowned, by the way. Died in ‘71. Was killed by her husband. The kid was missing so he was declared dead too. No one really knows who the kid was, or the surname though. Sparked a huge burst in Death Eaters.”

 

“That’s horrible.” Harry muttered. “No reason to hate muggles, though.”

 

Ron hummed. “I would understand the family, I mean, if Charlie was killed by a muggle, I would be mad, but I think most just used it as an excuse.”

 

Harry sniffed. “I don’t like my relatives, but I don’t hate muggles. They just aren’t the good type of muggles. What do you thi- Severus?”

 

The beast was gone, the two boys glancing around the room. “Where do you think he went?” Ron inquired, pulling back Neville’s bed curtain.

 

“He probably wanted to do something.” Harry shrugged. “Or he didn’t like the Princes.”

 

“Maybe.” Ron agreed. “Hey, did you see Ravenclaw’s new keeper?”

 

Off in a dark hall, the Baku was doing something. He sat alone in front of a portrait, letting out a soft bark. A woman stood, dark-haired and pale, looking much like the Potions Master that everyone knew.

 

“My son.”

 

“ _ Not son. _ ”

 

“No, not in that form.” The woman cooed. “Are you asking for help for once? That potion shouldn’t have taken this long. It should have been on hand. Perhaps, it is that woman?”

 

Severus nodded, approaching the portrait. “ _ Please. _ ” He lowered his head, shivering at the cracking sounds coming from the portrait.

 

“What do I get in return?”

 

“ _ Ask. _ ”

 

“I wish to be somewhere that isn’t such a dreary hall. All alone here… Your quarters should be suitable.”

 

“ _ Agree. _ ”

 

“Good boy.” The crackling continued, the feeling of dried paint on cloth rubbing into the back of his neck. There was a sharp sting, Severus’ bones snapping in pain. The man choked on the fog surrounding him, falling to his knees.

 

“Thank you, Morrigan.”

 

“When will you accept being my son, Severus?”

 

“I won’t. I have a mother.”

 

“She doesn’t love you.”

 

“You do not either.” He sneered, shakily standing up.

 

“I do.” The woman pulled her arm back, holding up her hand for one of her many crows. “You resemble me in many ways. I can at least offer advice, and unlike your so-called mother, I did not leave you to be beaten. Unlike her, I only wish to help. Don’t you remember how you used to sacrifice for me on Samhain?”

 

Severus gave her a dirty look, wrapping himself in his cloak that reeked from lack of wash. “I gave you yew and willow. Not blood.”

 

“I don’t need blood, Severus. I need my little boy with wide eyes and hopeful thoughts.” She purred. “I liked yew and willow. I still do. Perhaps mugwort would be nice.”

 

“No.”

 

“You have some in your stores.”

 

“No.” He snapped again. “Now be quiet. I need to go to my quarters.” He pulled the portrait from the wall, huffing as he weaved through unused halls.

 

“You will be different, seeing as I was the one who changed you.”

 

“In what way?” Severus slapped the frame above his fireplace, tossing off his cloak and smock, scowling at the sweat stains on his white undershirt.

 

“Well, your eyes.”

 

The man blinked, looking up from his buttons. “My eyes?”

 

“I can not make them exactly as before, seeing as I am a picture.” She smiled. “I might have messed up your hair, I haven’t seen you in a long while. I don’t recommend cutting it. It might come back. Remember when you were 16, and it reached your waist? It was so beautiful.”

 

“What else did you do?” Severus barked, seething. A long lock of hair slipped past his shoulder, falling to the bottom button hole of his shirt.

 

“That. You are angry. The dream-eater and your rage are going to be hard to control.”

 

“You-”

 

“I can restore the anger if you agree to be my son.”

 

“No!” Severus sat in a huff, slapping his hand on the table. “I am not your bloody son!”

 

“I think you are part of my lineage and should recognize that.” Morrigan smiled at him. “All you have to do is die. You will come back.”

 

Severus ran a hand down his face, pulling his shields up and scowling. “I’m not dying for you.”

 

“I still love you. It is a mother’s curse.” She sighed. “Wash and eat. They await you.” She sat on the uprising root of a dead and gnarled tree, a crow perching on her thin shoulder. Her other hand adjusted her scythe, watching as he stripped in the living room, kicking his shoes at the coat stand and setting the filthy robes on fire. He banished them away after they were thoroughly burned, grumbling as he turned to his bathroom.

 

The goddess only chuckled, clicking her tongue at the cat that wandered into her frame. It reminded her of Severus, its proud walk and intelligent eyes. Her hand ran over the fur, enjoying the soft, smooth feeling.

 

It gave a meow of affection, turning to leap away. Morrigan grabbed its little head, snapping the cat’s neck quickly. “Once their dead, they can’t run away.” She stroked the lifeless feline, deciding that it would also be named Severus. Severus the 13th.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry about the short chapter, but adding more would make it odd looking. Chapter 5 should be longer. Watch out for scary paint lady. Look up Goddess (Or 'The', for some reason) Morrigan if you want more on her. Nice and inconsistent.


	5. Bitches and Booze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can we fix it?  
> Well, that's really debatable, you know?

Albus watched the fuming man stomp across his office, his feet making little sound despite the violence between each step. “I can see how it is a problem, Severus, but my carpet is suffering all too much. Do take a seat.”

 

“I can’t go around like this!” He snapped. “I look just like my Dream-Eater state! I’ve been gone and I come back as a full time Dream-Eater? That isn’t how it works.”

 

Albus hummed. “We could fake your death. You could rest for a while.”

 

“Excuse me?” Severus stopped his pacing, staring at the old man in horror. “We fake my death and you lose your spy? What good will that bring?”

 

“Well, I know you don’t like possession-”

 

“No.”

 

“Severus-”

 

“No! No- no- no! I will not do that!” Severus’ shoe clicked against the floor, his foot tapping swiftly. “It’s, it’s- wrong!”

 

“Something being ‘wrong’, has never stopped you before, my boy. It is the only option that will keep you safe. We can keep you in your quarters, and there is nothing dangerous with you wandering the halls at night.”

 

“So you suggest I… die…” Severus felt his brain click, his thoughts feeling muddled and drunk.

 

“Not truly. I couldn’t live knowing you died so young.” Albus stood, approaching quietly, wine colored robes swishing across the floor. He pulled the silver-haired man into a hug, Severus staring off into space. “Are you having an episode? Must we get Poppy?”

 

Severus jerked from his arms, a scowl on his face. “No- no we don’t- I must-” He reached for the headmaster’s floo powder, calling for his quarters. He heard it flare as the old man followed, but his mind was on one thing.

 

“Morrigan!” Severus snapped, standing in front of the fireplace. “I accept.”

 

Albus blinked, holding up a hand. “I need an explanation before we continue, my boy.”

 

“No, you really don’t.” The woman cooed. “Severus, my dear, I’m glad you are choosing me over her.”

 

“I’m not. Do it.”

 

“Please.” Albus said loudly, his tone softening. “An explanation.”

 

The woman sighed, sitting on the edge of her frame, exposing a long, smooth leg. “I love my son, even if he refuses to acknowledge it.” She set her hand on the edge, looking like she was pressed against glass, her eyes full of hope. “My love will be released from that curse of his mother’s once he dies. It will send him back to when he first earned his inheritance, 15, was it? Yes, when you first cried to me about pains and aches. Even the strongest men weep, my son.”

 

“Get on with it!” Severus snapped.

 

Morrigan chuckled, a hand at her lips. “Such a naughty boy. Must come from that disgusting, bastard muggle. When he dies, he will be my vessel. I can truly watch over my dear son. I can keep that _wretch_ away.” She hissed, smoothing herself out quickly. “A boy needs tender love, after all. Well, we don’t know what you will look like. My first vessel made me an old hag. The second, well, you see.” She waved a hand down the length of her body. “In short, I will walk among them, he shall be stronger, a new person. A demi-god if you will.”

 

Albus shook his head. “We cannot do this, Severus.”

 

“I’m not asking you!” He barked, leaning close. “What do I do?”

 

“Well, I need my normal sacrificial things. Yew, willow, mugwort. You, of course. Ah, I will need a seance circle and candles. Easy.”

 

Severus swept into his stores, a piece of chalk quickly working on the circle. Albus clenched his hands.

 

“How is this better than what I suggested?” He asked, glaring at the woman. She was grinning excitedly, like a girl at her 10th birthday party.  


 

“If I am a new person,” Severus spoke like he was talking to a first year, “I can continue to spy. I can return to his ranks and keep such a worthless inheritance hidden! There are few Dream-Eaters, and if I am caught, I’ll lose my job, my freedom- I’ll be forced to be a mixture of an Unspeakable, and a Dementor. I must stay hidden!”

 

Morrigan watched eagerly as he placed the candles down. “My love, just light them and stand in the center.”

 

“Severus.” Albus sighed. “I… I do love you, my boy. Yet, I can not find myself approving this. You already do so much. You could just, retire…”

 

“I have work to do.” Severus said firmly. “I can’t rest until I am done.”

 

“A true Slytherin. Old Salazar would be proud, the wretched bastard.” Morrigan leaned as close as she could, the snapping of the portrait filling the tiny room. “Give me what is mine, complete my circle! Death, my new beginning, to walk along the living! The blood of my own, the love of my own, seal my circle! Make me complete!” She chanted loudly, Albus stepping back, wand in hand.

 

He raised his wand, taking a breath, his eyes growing wide as the paint melted from the canvas, leaking into the circle. “Incen-”

 

The portrait snapped off the wall, the frame tightening around the man’s arms and chest. The candles combusted, the paint creating a ring of fire. Albus tapped the portrait, the golden frame snapping off. He readied his spell again, determined not to be cut off.

 

“ _ Aqua Eructo _ !” The jet of water doused the flames, Albus wobbling as the castle shook from the magic being forced to break. He cleared the smoke with a flick of the wand, his body feeling cold. He summoned a cloak, setting it over the woman’s shoulders.

 

Her breathing was ragged. She looked around the room, eyes widening and filling with enraged fire.

 

“You idiot!” She turned to him, dark eyes shining. “You ruined it! You- you killed my son!” She stood, teeth clenched. "You _killed_ my boy!"  


 

Harry sat up, rubbing his eyes and pulling his book from his lap. He felt tired, like he ran the whole Tour De France. Why was he in a closet? Why was Malfoy in the same closet? When did he leave his common rooms?

 

“Hey- Hey Malfoy!” He kicked the other boy’s foot, earning a groan.

 

“Where-? What did you do?” He grabbed his head.

 

“I can’t remember.”

 

“I can’t either. I remember asking you about your cards, then rumbling?”

 

Harry looked around the closet, lighting the tip of his wand. There were cracks in the wall, but the shelves prevented anything from falling and landing on them. Harry and Draco exited the broom closet, the blonde boy dusting off his robes angrily. "Damn spiders..."  


 

“Albus-” She paused, double-taking as she took note of the boys. “Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy? Why were you in the broom closet?”

 

“The whole castle was rumbling.” Draco rubbed his head. “The shelves prevented anything from falling on us.” He looked at the few chips of stone laying of the ground. “I say that was good thinking.”

 

Harry nodded. “Yeah, no kidding.” He looked to the older adults, glancing around. “Is Sever-er, uh, Professor Snape okay? He left the rooms, I think I was looking for him?”

 

Albus paled, looking down. “I can not believe it, Minnie.”

 

“Don’t you 'Minnie' me!” The witch snapped. “He isn’t him any more!”

 

“What happened to Uncle Severus?” Draco demanded, looking between the two. “What did you do?”

 

“He ruined my spell.” A sultry voice muttered in distaste. “Your Professor Snape is now Professor Morrigan.” Her heels clicked and her robes fluttered behind her.

 

“You were supposed to stay in his quarters.”

 

“As if I would. After being a portrait for so long. Yes, I wanted to be locked up again.” The woman held a hand to her chest. “He is still here, I can feel it. We are one. At least he is safe…” Her eyes snapped to the boys. “Yes. Yes he is still here. I can feel his fondness of the two of you.”

 

Draco paled. “M-Morrigan? T-the Goddess, Morrigan? I-It’s a j-joke right?”

 

“Cease your stuttering. Severus won’t let me attack. He is adamant about it.” The woman brushed his hair back, eyes softening. “A little Incubus and a little Trickster. Interesting.”

 

“Morrigan-”

 

“I do not want to speak with you, you disgusting old man!” She snapped. “You, you are a fine lady. Come, I require a beverage. These two as well. The poor little kittens are so shaken up.”

 

Minerva swallowed, looking between the two adults. She approached Morrigan, gesturing for her to follow.

 

“I can feel his desires.” She said suddenly. “He wanted to mentor you two. He had techniques in line for you to practice. My son was always so caring.” She purred to herself, pulling the cloak closer to her face. “My little boy was always so playful too. Such craft! Such heart! I still feel tears swell at the thought of my love being so damned and broken.”

 

Minerva raised a brow, scolding children who stopped and stared at the woman.

 

“She’s half naked!” A boy whispered, his friend turning red.

 

Morrigan scowled in a very Snape-like way, her voice soft and venomous. “Such heathens. Commenting on a ladies clothing in such. Suggesting I follow provocative way of life! A woman is a being to be respected, not hidden away! She should flaunt her body as much as a man does!”

 

Harry nodded a bit. “Yeah. And men should wear make-up. ‘Cause if women get to be ugly and hide it, men should too.”

 

“Yes! A strong sense of balance in you I see!” Morrigan cooed, running her fingers through his hair. “But still, you are such a naughty boy, I can tell. Always breaking rules…”

 

“He is punished appropriately.” Minerva commented sternly as she opened the door to her office, shutting it with a soft click. Tea appeared on the smooth wood, the dark woman crossing a leg over the other as she sat down. She was attractive, there was no denying that, but she wasn’t attractive in a good way. She was attractive in the ‘too glam to give a damn’ way. The one that made people nervous.

 

“Tell me, Minerva, is it? Yes, tell me, how is the economy?”

 

“What?”

 

“Economy! Money!” She exclaimed. “It matters very much! Do we use currency or are we back to trading? I always loved selling potion ingredients for children. They all were much better off in my care…”

 

“We use galleons.” Draco explained, scooting away. “Galleons, sickles, and knuts.”

 

“What kind of nut? Peanut? Walnut? Almond? Or is it the type that matters? Innovative, but not good for colder climates."  


 

“No, knut. K-N-U-T. It's the smallest unit. Sickles are next, and not the weapon and or farm tool. And gall-e-ons, not like the measurement. 29 knuts is one sickle, and 493 knuts is a galleon. Then there are 17 sickles in a galleon.”

 

“I see. Why such confusing numbers?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

She hummed. “I should have some of those ‘galleons’ in Severus’ bank then. Transfigured clothing doesn’t hold forever. My poor boy, having to struggle to do exchanges of such confusing caliber!” She frowned. “That is a peasant's job. My little Prince shouldn’t have done any such thing!”

 

Minerva looked ready to punch her. “Slavery is against the law now, I hope you know.”

 

Her head shot up. “Who does the cleaning?”

 

“House elves.” Draco said softly, scooting away again. The boy was sweating a bit. “They like it though. They just like working.”

 

Morrigan nodded. “I see. We… We no longer are against those of darker skins, yes?”

 

“That’s racism. We don’t appreciate it.” Harry explained. “Some people still think they should be slaves, but those people suck.”

 

“Good good!” She clapped with a smile. “I am glad we are progressing! What about sugar? Is it an easy trade?”

 

“Yeah.” Harry nodded. “So is cotton, and uh, cactus.”

 

“Why does one need cactus?”

 

“Potions. Decor.” Draco shrugged a bit. “One can consume them.”

 

Morrigan nodded. “I see. Rum?”

 

Minerva chuckled ruefully at that bit. “There is some in every teacher’s quarters.”

 

“Please! Please, let me indulge! It has been all too long since I had done anything fun!” Morrigan grabbed the older woman’s hands, eyes wide and pleading. “I haven’t had alcohol in three millennia!”

 

“Really? Three-thousand years?”

 

“It is a hyperbole, but it feels that way.” She whinged, letting out an excited gasp when a bottle appeared on the desk. Minerva peeled off the plastic, reaching for the snifter as she tossed the wrapping away. She watched in horror and amazement as the woman yanked the cap off, drinking as much as she could in one breath. Morrigan panted, her lips peeling into a grin.

 

“Sweets! Surely there are still sweets too?”

 

Minerva held up a hand. “You might want to take it slowly, dear.” She pulled the bottle away. “You will make yourself sick. Severus had stamina when it came to drinking, but he never held it well.”

 

The woman nodded, pulling the cloak around her, a tipsy blush on her cheeks and a smile on her lips. “Yes… Yes to walk among the living is wonderful. If only my son was here. I can see it now!” Her voice quivered and she hiccuped, tapping her toes together. “We would be in my castle, watching from the bay window in the tower as waves reached toward us. He would cuddle close as all little boys do when they love their mothers. He would be dozing as we had eaten too many sweets and indulged in the finest liquors!”

 

Minerva bit her lip, looking to the two boys. They all watched as she began to sob, pulling the cloak closer to her body. “Morrigan?”

 

“I miss my son already! He will never be around to hold onto! His body is my own!” She wailed, her voice in stricken agony. Draco scrubbed his eyes, looking away with a tight frown. “It was fine when I wasn’t alive, my son was breathing! I wished for him a beautiful woman and he didn’t find one! That bullying man stole her away! Now he is gone, out of my sight and grasp!”

 

Minerva let out a huff, standing and approaching her door. “I’ll take care of this. You two boys head to your dorms. Please, for the love of Merlin, don’t speak of this to anyone.”

 

Harry and Draco nodded, Harry gently patting the woman’s shoulder as she curled up and sobbed into the cloak. He grimaced at the mucus filled cough she gave, exiting the office quickly.

 

“Well, that was a definite H-2-No.” Harry wiggled his brows, sighing at the boy’s confused face. “H2O is the chemical components in water? Tears are water? No?”

 

“What does ‘H’ to ‘O’ mean? Why is an ‘H’ transforming into an ‘O’? Why wouldn’t water start with a ‘W’?”

 

“Just… Just never mind.” Harry glanced back at the door, shaking his head. He could use some acetaminophen for the headache he was receiving. Maybe some of that liquor. Yeah, perfect chemistry right there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even sorry. Are we going to get Severus back? Are we going to see why Morrigan hates Eileen so much? Those are good questions. Too bad I won't answer them.


	6. Can You Really Call This a School, I Haven't Recieved an Education Or Anything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot doesn't really progress but you learn a thing!

“Well, because my love wanted you to be educated, I have met you here to explain our routine.”

 

“Was the picnic part necessary?”

 

“I haven’t indulged. So yes.”

 

Harry nodded, taking another egg salad sandwich. It was fantastic, really. The sun was shining, birds were chirping but not loudly, clouds puffed by without smearing over the blue canvas. It was, well, a picture book good day.

 

“So,” Morrigan began. “We are going to start with Occlumency. After that, learning all the skills we can, then we shall use them, and then... “ She glared at the parchment in her hand. “My son has such violent handwriting. “Fu-Fix? Oh! Fix- horr-cru-se? Well, that doesn’t matter. Something to do with that incubus.”

 

“That sounds like it matters a lot.” Harry muttered. “Like, a whole bunch.”

 

“No, no, he feels it is unimportant for now.” She waved a hand. “Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Good boy.” She gently grabbed his hand, Harry’s brows raising and his eyes locking onto her’s.

 

“You could, you know, let go.”

 

“Nonsense. I’m going to comfort you.” She smiled at him, Harry glancing around for anyone who would understand the eyebrow gesture of ‘I require assistance’.

 

“Or uh, well, you don’t have to do that-”

 

Her smile fell. “You were just like my little Severus, weren’t you?”

 

“Huh?”

 

Morrigan quickly yanked him into a hug, Harry feeling oddly calm about the situation. Then again, he can’t remember the last time he had truly taken something seriously. Sirius would be seriously disappointed in him. Heh. Well, there goes his streak!

 

Damn it, he forgot about important life stuff again! “So, uh, Severus was, uh, you know?”

 

“Always. My poor little moon couldn’t rest. That girl he loved always leading him around like a mule, those bullies, his father, his mother…” Morrigan hissed. “That wretched woman! She placed a curse on him. I still can not fix it. Not until I have rested.”

 

Harry swallowed. The protagonist feeling in his gut grew, his mouth going dry. “What curse?”

 

Morrigan sighed. “He can not have children, love… He is cursed to be alone. Any sort of comfort he has seeked had turned on him.”

 

Harry felt the curiosity drop. “Are you sure? He still came to you, right?”

 

“I was dead. The curse didn’t affect the non-living. You only receive so much love from a ghost, as much as it pains me to say.”

 

“Are you sure it isn’t because he is bitter?”

 

“No boy is born bitter. They are made.” Morrigan shook her head. “He only cares for her. That was the curse. So he couldn’t betray his mother by caring for others.”

 

“That sounds like a shit plot device.”

 

Morrigan scowled at him. “I do not know what that means but I am offended. Let me be more graphic, then.”

 

“Oh uh-”

 

“Love makes him ill.” She spat. “It makes his sallow skinned and tired, it makes him not want to eat. It is like suffering from illness constantly. It is no normal love sickness. It would make one motivated if it was. At least the first part of it would. No. No it makes his heart grow and contract. It makes him cough blood and makes him vomit. It is a death sentence.”

 

Her arm tightened around Harry’s chest, the pressure on his collar bone making him wince.

 

“You. He loves you so. Much like a son. Yes, yes he does. He loves you and that little blonde boy. He loves the pupils that come into his room. But it hurts him. It makes him tired and ache. It makes him angry and it clouds his mind.” Harry grabbed her hand, pulling it away from his throat the best he could. She wasn’t a weak woman in the slightest! Surely this was a fetish he didn’t want to be a part of.

 

“Morrigan-”

 

“My boy is dying for you, and you hardly show any appreciation for his hard, slaving work!” Her body convulsed, her arm going slack. She stood quickly, Harry coughing and sputtering. Morrigan shook her head, dropping to her knees, her head clutched in her hands.

 

“Morri…” Harry asked gingerly, reaching for the glass of cider he had. She needed help, and he would be damned if he let her kill kids for Severus.

 

“My love suffered at the hands of a jealous, beaten woman. The boy I invested in.”

 

“Invested how?” Harry watched as she sat back down, scrubbing her eyes. “Like, financially or?”

 

“I sent him my crows. I gave him ingredients. He never understood, but he knew they cared. I would lead my murder, I would give him gifts. He would be hurt for it, but he always loved them. He was mine. She took him away.”

 

Harry took another sip, watching as she slowly dismantled a sandwich. “Do you know how to fix it?”

 

“No.” She looked defeated. “I had asked all I could, but I’m not very close to a solution.”

 

The boy sighed. “Well, how do we get him out of you? Wow, that sounds horrible.”

 

Morrigan flopped onto the blanket. “Again, I do not know.”

 

Harry thought of the Triwizard Tournament and frowned. “I think I know of a way, but you might lose a hand.”

 

“Please.” She scoffed. “Any sort of blood needed is drastically reduced. I am, after all, much stronger than a human.”

 

The Trickster rubbed his throat, the pain subsiding into a phantom one. “No kidding. But I think we could redo it? He might look like a snake though.”

 

Morrigan scowled. “If you are talking about the  _ Puer Circuli _ , I would need a horcrux. He doesn’t have any. And the rebirth is so the horcrux looks like the part of soul that had been broken off. I would say if he was snake-like, it would be because he was a cunning, deceiving brat!”

 

“Sounds accurate.”

 

“Mr. Potter!” Damn it all the hell! “Who is this- this naked woman?” Umbridge had a clipboard in hand, marching toward their picnic with Filch and someone in Auror’s robes on her heels.

 

“I am Morrigan, peasant!” She sat up, Severus’ cloak slipping off her torso to reveal more skin. Why she wore tight short-shorts and a low-neck crop top was beyond Harry. But hey, she looked good, like a Gothic Aphrodite. Or a grunge girl. Yeah, grunge was pretty hot right now, if Harry tossed his two cents in.

 

Get your mind out of the grunge gutter boy, we have work to do!

 

The Auror paused, shaking her head. “Nonsense. Morrigan had a crow and a scythe.”

 

Said woman clicked her fingers, holding her hand out. A crow dropped to her fingers, hanging onto her hand as if it was a normal thing to do. She then drew her wand and gave it a flick, the decorated weapon most definitely a scythe.

 

“I. Am. Morrigan.” She hissed, the crow spitting at the three. Filch only seemed slightly put out, muttering something about feeding Ms. Norris. The poor man knew he was over his head. Harry would give him points for trying, seeing as much shit he has to suffer with.

 

“Well, whoever you are…” Umbridge drawled, her voice heightening in pitch. “You have proven yourself to be dangerous. So, we are going to ask you to lea-mmph!”

 

Umbridge’s mouth was clamped shut, Morrigan pinching her fingers together. “Thread.” Thin wires quickly did as told, keeping the woman’s mouth shut without magic. Umbridge opened her mouth a fraction, wailing out and clamping a hand over her lips.

 

The Auror put their hands up shakily. “I believe you, Miss Morrigan!” They dropped into a bow, Harry watching in sick fascination. This was disgustingly wonderful. He could use this. He could really be the next King on the Chess Board. But that would make her his queen, and she was way too old. So maybe not.

 

“Begone.”

 

“Y-Yes ma’am!” The young lady dragged the other one away, leaving Harry and the woman alone.

 

“Now then.” She turned to Harry, looking stern and very much like Professor Snape. “Occlumency.”

 

Draco fell back against his pillow, Blaise next to him. “I just… I don’t know what to do.”

 

“Tell him.”

 

“There isn’t any subtly.”

 

“He isn’t that smart. Tell him.”

 

“What if he says no?”

 

“Like that matters!” Blaise huffed. “I know I am your wingman in everything, but this is one of those things you have to do by yourself. Your father can’t be that mad.”

 

“He expects me there!”

 

“It’s Hogsmeade not a damn meeting with the Minister! You want to practice concealing yourself!” Blaise huffed, sliding his arm around the pale boy’s shoulder. “Have I ever lead you astray?”

 

“Once you hooked me up with Pansy, remember?”

 

The dark boy blushed a bit. “I thought you two liked each other.”

 

“It’s alright. I didn’t think Pansy was a lesbian either. To be fair, I thought she liked me too.”

 

“You didn’t like her back, though.”

 

“Something always felt wrong.” Draco shrugged. “You know what we are though?”

 

“Slytherin?”

 

“Nope. Think personal?”

 

Blaise hummed. “Dick bags?”

 

“To a degree, admittedly, but no.”

 

“I’m lost.”

 

“We have a…” He snickered, Blaise looking more and more dead. “BRO-mance!”

 

The black boy kicked the other one off the mattress, flipping him the bird. “I tried to comfort you and you do this!”

 

“That’s my bed you know.” Draco giggled as he stood, a foot placed squarely across his chest. “You can’t take my bed!”

 

“Yes I can.” Blaise kicked out, Draco only shrugging.

 

“I get your bed.”

 

“What? No!” He leaped up, flopping onto his own. When Draco moved back to his, he got up and did it again. “I’m taking both of these, you ungrateful prick!”

 

Draco sighed in defeat, jumping up and falling onto the other boy. “Really now, a Malfoy always is on top.”

 

“That’s inappropriate you pervert!”

 

“Wait what? No it isn’t!” Draco thought for a moment, a dusting of blush on his cheeks. “Yes it is. But you thought of it first, so you’re the pervert, you pervert.”

 

“Woah, what a great insult.” Blaise shoved him off, sitting on his chest. “You know, as a Seeker, you aren’t very muscly. I, on the hand.”

 

Draco struggled, pausing when the other boy stared at him. “Blaise, uh, you- I need you to get off.”

 

“What’s wrong, Draco?” He leaned closer, the blonde boy paling.

 

“I don’t want to.” Draco held his hand up, gently pushing Blaise back by his forehead.

 

The scent was intoxicating, Draco himself could smell it, but the boy blinked, coughing and scooting away. “Where is your potion?” He scrambled through the drawers, yanking underwear and socks out of their respectful spots.

 

Draco took it from his hand, swallowing and sighing. “Sorry. I guess I was enjoying myself. I wasn’t focused enough. Congrats on not, uh, falling for it.”

 

The black boy shrugged, fanning his face with his shirt collar. “Well, uh. Yeah. It’s what friends do.”

 

“Thanks, Blaise.” Draco huffed. “I really hate this stuff.”

 

The boy returned to the other’s side. “The good news is, I learned I have a strong sense of consent. What if we charmed your clothes to get rid of moisture? Do you think that would work?”

 

Draco shrugged, yawning into his hand. “Tomorrow.”

 

“You have an essay to finish and dinner to eat.” Blaise jabbed his stomach, earning a gasp.

 

“Yeah yeah! Whatever.” The Malfoy boy rolled over onto his side. “I’m not… I’m not hungry. Not really.”

 

Blaise sighed, sitting up and giving the boy a soft smile. “I’ll bring something up.”

 

The door shut behind the black boy, Draco grinning a bit. He had such a good friend. His mind slowly kicked into gear. Potter had friends- he was Potter’s friend- where was he? Where was that lady?

 

Draco shot up, panic arising in his chest. “She’s gonna kill him!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna throw a shout out to those who leave comments. I like them more than I should and they give me a sense of value. Now if you excuse me, I have to figure out how to create a re-birthing ritual, which is actually why this is taking so long.


	7. Consider the Following

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We figure out how to fix our Potions Professor and I apologize for such a long wait and short chapter

Harry bumped into Draco. And by bumped we all know it means they launched each other back like magnets.

“Potter! You- you’re safe?”

“Well I didn’t card my throat, so yeah.”

“Where is Morrigan?”

“Uh, she went into the woods. Said she had an idea on how to fix Severus. You know about his curse?”

“Curse? No.” Draco huffed, shaking his head. “First thing first, we need to be not on the floor, because this is disgusting. Then, we need to find somewhere private.”

“I honestly think being somewhere private with an incubus is a bad idea.” Harry smirked at the boy’s blush, appearing behind him to dodge the lunge. “Ha! I can apparate in the boundaries, remember? I call it Porting!”

“Haha, look at you.” Draco hissed dryly, standing and dusting off his pants. “Follow me.”

“Am I gonna get a treat for being a good boy?” Harry cooed, Porting again to dodge.

“You know what? Yes.” Draco said stubbornly. “I’ll make you feel super special loved for ten minutes, and then I’ll drop you in a clean ditch instead of a dirty one when I hide your soulless body.”

“Oh, someone is cranky.” Harry’s mind was urging him to stop, but his body just didn’t want to. “Get cock-blocked?”

Draco landed a hit that time, Harry dropping to the floor. There was a lot of power in that slap despite the lack of surface area. The rings didn’t help, but at least he wasn’t bleeding out.

“Potter. I swear to Merlin. Take this seriously.” Draco snarled, leaning close. “You’re going to follow me, and you’re going to behave, yes?”

Harry nodded, his mind filling with fog. He felt light and airy. Draco paced ahead, Harry standing and following, a smile growing on his lips. Wonder what they were going to do. Was he gonna kiss him? Would Harry even like that? Probably, he smelled good.

There was a slam, but it was echoey. “Potter, sit.”

“Yeah okay.” Kiss time!

“Now then, tell me about the curse.” Draco listened with a grim face, grey eyes narrowing and widening. Harry slowly came to, blinking rapidly.

“Where are we?”

“I have to use my compulsion on you.” Draco snapped. “Don’t make me do it again.”

“Sure thing, Saucy.” Harry saluted, flopping onto his back. “I feel really lightheaded.”

“That’s because you’re aroused.” Draco scoffed. “Just think of something gross.”

Harry glanced to the boy with wild eyes, then to himself in horror. He balled up his robes and dropped them into his lap, grinning sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“It’s my fault. I know it is.” Draco rolled his eyes. “So, Severus is under the Love-Lock Curse. That’s not easy to break.”

Harry noted the name, ready to come up with a reason to ask Hermione about it. “Right. How is it normally done?”

“Well, unless you want to be charged for murder…” Draco let it hang, watching Harry gulp.

“Right. Any other ways?”

“Of course. He needs to love someone so much it just breaks.”

“And?”

“Well, he might die doing so.” Draco huffed. “Murder doesn’t sound so bad, right now.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” Harry gave a quick thumbs up. “Would you really kill someone for him?”

“He’s done a lot for me.” Draco said flatly. “Perhaps if it ever comes down to it, we’ll see what happens.”

Harry raised a brow. “I hope it doesn’t but alright.”

“Well, anyway, the Love-Lock Curse is tricky and honestly, Severus needs his body back first. After that, it’s all about… well, I don’t really know but I can do some research and whatnot.”

“So you know the name, and nothing else?”

“Well, it’s just immoral.” That was rich like chocolate cake; coming from him, at least. “No one studied it. It was supposed to be gone. I know it started with jealous husbands, but after that, well, I don’t know. Most of the books were burned and banished. For a good reason.”

“I’m not doubting that.” Harry shook his head. “Any ideas on getting Snape back?”

“Well, there is always the Reincarnation Method. But we aren’t Buddhists and I don’t know anyone who is, which causes some issues. Let’s see, there is the- well, we would need a succubus much more skilled than I.”

“That doesn’t seem too bad. Doesn't hurt, does it?”

“Well it will if they just eat the soul and run.” Draco snapped.

“Yeah, that would be bad.”

“No shit.” The boy frowned. “I’m stuck.”

“Well, could we make one? Like a ritual?”

“Do you wanna spend 100 years with some old hags and surrounded by potion ingredients? No? Oh, well, I guess not.”

Harry felt anger bubble inside of him. “This isn’t my fault! What the hell are you taking it out on me for?”

“Without Severus I’ll be a Death Eater you stupid twit!” Draco screeched, slamming a palm onto the hard floor next to him. “I don’t want to hurt people- I- and hold your shock and awe, Potter- I want to be a Healer!”

The Trickster blinked owlishly. “You do?”

“Yes! Do you know how hard it is to be a Slytherin? To have your father beat you senseless because some stupid Mudblood outscores you- a person who has practiced magic since birth? It fucking sucks, Potter!” The boy yanked at his hair. “I just wanna live- I don’t want to kill people or host raids or fund terrorists- but I have to because my crest is green so obviously I’m fucking Grindelwald reincarnated!” His eyes were hurtful blue, and his face red with rage. His eyes glazed over with tears and his lip trembled, his breathing ragged.

“Draco-”

“Unless you decide you’re actually going to help instead of harass me and unless you start to take this seriously, I don’t want to see you, talk to you, hell I don’t want to hear your fucking name! Just- Just get out.”

Harry swallowed, closing his eyes. When he opened them, he was wrapped around the giant pendulum of the clock tower, holding onto the bar tightly as it swayed. It was soothing, but he still felt a nauseated feeling in his gut. Was that why Draco was eager to befriend him first year?

He allowed himself to scold his actions, watching as the slim, dark shape of Morrigan slowly edged from the forest, holding her basket tightly. He could tell from here she was upset and didn’t find everything.

Harry glanced at the sky, watching as clouds rolled in, rain trailing after them slowly. The students in the yards dashed back to the castle, the rain descending upon them.

Harry could almost hear Severus’ scolding tone, telling him moping was useless.

“It’s like you’re here.” Harry murmured, his heart twisting in his chest.

“I am in a sense you stupid boy!” Harry whipped around, excitement falling at a stern looking Morrigan. “I managed to take a little more control of the vessel.”

“It’s kind of scary that she can make her voice that low.”

“It’s more muscle memory and detached speaking.” He explained nonchalantly. “I’m not really here. I’m stuck in Purgatory.”

“So you are dead?”

“I would prefer the the term ‘Body-less’, but yes, I am sort of dead.” Severus explained, Morrigan sitting and watching the rain. “It could be worse. I could be truly dead.”

“How did this even happen?” Harry asked, slipping from the swinging metal and to the spot next to him.

“I…” The man sighed. “I did something rash and Professor Dumbledore tried to stop me.”

Harry frowned at the vague run down but accepted it. He didn’t expect much else from him anyway.

“So, any ideas on how to fix you?”

“I do, but you aren’t going to like it.”

Harry sighed. “Well, run it by me first. What’s going to happen?”

“We need to break into the Ministry.”

“Oh.” Harry nodded, scowling a moment later. “Wait- what the fuck?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't go into detail because I'm sure no one actually cares, but I've been in bad mental health so writing was hard. I'm okay-ish now, so perhaps I can force myself to continue. So, uh, sorry I guess.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure where this is going to go, but I can only assume it's going to be a lot less angst ridden than the canon version. Hopefully you do the laugh were you more or less just breath out of your nose loudly.


End file.
